


Moon Dance

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping, Karaoke, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: Martino doesn't know why he agreed to go camping with the boys--he hates everything about the great outdoors: the bugs, the heat, the annoying group of guys who sing karaoke until three AM every night. There is absolutely nothing that could make this trip bearable... except maybe the cute guy who smiles at Martino like he hung the moon. Maybe him.
Relationships: Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta
Comments: 22
Kudos: 94





	Moon Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr.](http://azozzoni.tumblr.com)

Martino slapped another bug as it landed on his skin—he wasn’t sure what it was that made him particularly tasty to mosquitoes but the other guys didn’t seem to be having the same problem as Gio threw another log in the fire pit and Elia dug in the cooler for beer. Luchino was humming along to whatever terrible song was playing a few campsites away.

Slumping on the log, Martino wondered for the fifth time since they’d arrived at the campground why he’d agreed to this. He hated camping—the bugs and sleeping on the ground, the lack of proper bathrooms—a horrible smelling toilet a thousand feet away wasn’t his idea of civilized. But the guys had wanted to go, and it might have been their last chance to be together before University started and they went different ways.

Martino glanced up as the music from the other campsite grew louder, voices joining in, drunk and happy-sounding. Exactly what Martino wasn’t.

Gio glanced up to from where he was poking the fire with a stick, cringing back as embers flew back in his face. “They sound like they’re having fun.”

Slapping another bug off his arm, Martino sighed. “Probably because they remembered to bring bug spray.”

Bug spray was just one of the many things it seemed they had forgotten to pack. Martino hoped they had at least brought food. He’d been in charge of the tents and sleeping bags, which were all perfectly set up behind them.

Gio rolled his eyes as he sat down in one of the two folding chairs that had made it in the car. Martino wasn’t sure Luchino actually knew how to count. “For fucks sake, Marti, will you stop bitching for five minutes? Go sit in the smoke and bugs won’t bother you.”

Making a face, Martino scoffed. “Exactly what I want to smell like for a week: smoke.”

There weren’t exactly showers anywhere, and they were stuck here for the next five days. Stuck might have been a bit over-dramatic, but Martino thought it anyway. He could have been at home in his perfectly nice flat, with a working shower and air conditioning and absolutely no bugs trying to eat him alive.

“We’ll jump in the lake tomorrow,” Gio said, as though that was a viable solution to the problem. “That’ll wash you off.”

Martino rolled his eyes, smacking at another bug and frowning as the voices rose from the other campsite.

_"Share the love! Share the love!"_

He hoped he wasn’t going to have to listen to that all night.

Elia finally pulled a couple bottles from the bottom of the cooler, dripping with water. “Who needs bug spray when you have beer!” he said simply, handing around the bottles.

“We should have brought karaoke,” Luca said as Elia handed him a bottle. “Gio, did you bring your guitar?”

“Fuck.” Gio grimaced. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

Martino didn’t say anything, but he secretly glad. It was bad enough listening to the drunken guys shouting along to music through the trees. He didn’t need Luchino having one too many and requesting _Ti Amo_. Just because he was drunk in love with Silvia didn’t mean the rest of them had to suffer through disgusting love songs.

“Who needs karaoke when our neighbors seem to think Cesare Cremonini is the cream of the crop,” Martino muttered, hugging his arms and leaning towards the fire. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was dark and it had taken them hours just to drive up here. He didn’t even really know where _here_ was except that there were trees and a sparklingly-blue lake and way too many bugs. “Okay, that’s it,” he said, pushing himself off the log, feeling like bugs were crawling all over him as he wiped down his arms. “I’m going to bed.”

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Elia called after him, dissolving into laughter at his own joke.

Ignoring them, his stupid friends, Martino unzipped the tent and climbed inside. There better not have been any bugs inside.

Tomorrow would be better, he told himself. Once he was less tired, less frustrated at having to be here. He’d wanted to come, he reminded himself. After this, Luca was going to be at a completely different university and Elia would be in cooking school, of all places. Only Gio would be with Martino at Sapienza.

Sliding into his sleeping bag, Martino sighed as he gazed at the top of the tent, listening to the crackling fire outside, Gio and Elia and Luca’s quiet voices overshadowed by the music and loud, off-key singing of the group through the trees.

Grimacing, Martino pulled the pillow over his ears and tried to get comfortable, which was seemingly impossible, and he sighed as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was never going camping again.

*

Martino didn’t know how he made it to morning after lying awake half the night, the voices growing louder and possibly drunker the later it got. He’d been awake when Gio had finally crawled in the tent and for long after. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but it had to have been after the karaoke boys had finally turned it off and the trees went silent.

It was still early when Martino emerged from the tent, rubbing his eyes and yawning, blinking in the bright early morning sun. Luca and Elia’s tent was still silent, and Gio was sprawled on top of his sleeping bag, mouth open as he drooled on his pillow. 

Shaking his head, Martino zipped up the door and sighed at the camp site. The fire had been put out, empty beer bottles littering the ground. He didn’t clean up, though, turning and heading for the lake instead, weaving through the trees, past other quiet camp sites, until he reached the water’s edge.

Sunlight glinted off the water’s surface, gentle ripples from the wind, calm and quiet and peaceful.

For a moment, Martino stood there, shivering in the cool air, the sun not quite warm yet. This was one of the few things he liked about camping, these few minutes before everyone else was awake, when the world was still and quiet, before life came rushing back and he had to think about how everything was about to change.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there. Long enough that the sun peeked over the trees on the other side of the lake, until he began to hear movement and voices at the other camp sites, people waking up and preparing breakfast.

Reluctant, he turned from the water and headed back to his site. He wasn’t surprised to find Elia already awake, rummaging through the bags in the car.

He glanced over his shoulder as Martino arrived. “There you are. Thought maybe you’d thrown yourself in the lake in protest of being here.”

Rolling his eyes, Martino sunk down at the wooden picnic table. “What are you looking for?”

“A kettle,” Elia muttered. “But I’m not seeing one.”

Martino didn’t think he could survive without coffee. He would probably murder everyone here and then himself if he had to weather this week without any espresso.

“Great,” Martino muttered as Elia joined him at the table. 

“Maybe we could borrow one.”

“Borrow what?” Gio emerged from the tent, looking far more rested than Martino felt. He stretched languidly as he yawned.

“A moka for espresso,” Elia replied. “It seems we forgot to pack one.”

One of the many things they’d forgotten on this trip, Martino thought to himself, like his sanity.

“I can’t believe you forgot one,” he couldn’t help saying. “How are we supposed to make espresso?”

Elia shot him an unimpressed look. “I don’t know, Marti. Maybe you could hold the water in your hands over the fire.”

Gio sat down between them, shooting them both a look, a hand on Martino’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go ask those guys from last night if you can borrow theirs?”

Martino scoffed. “No way. They kept me up half the night with their terrible singing.” There was no way he was going over there. He doubted they were awake anyway considering how late they’d been up and how drunk their singing had sounded.

Gio’s sigh was annoyed, as though Martino was being difficult on purpose. “It’s either them or that group of little old ladies with the camper.”

Glancing through the trees, Martino could see the little silver camper, bright chairs sitting outside the door, crocheted blankets over the backs, even a rug below the door. 

“I think I’ll take my chances with the grandmas,” he said after a second as the camper door opened and an older grey-haired woman wearing a bright floral shirt ambled out, puttering around the fire.

“Have fun,” Elia snorted as Martino rose from the table.

He didn’t glare back. It was Elia’s fault he had to do this in the first place. Elia should be the one begging for help from strangers.

There were two women out front by the time Martino reached the camper, one sweeping off the rug and the other setting out breakfast.

Martino cleared his throat awkwardly as he stepped onto their campsite. “Good morning,” he greeted them slowly, and the woman with the short, curly grey hair beamed at him almost immediately.

“Good morning,” she replied brightly.

Hesitating, Martino shifted awkwardly. “It seems my friends forgot to bring a moka to make coffee. I was wondering if maybe you had one we could borrow?”

“How terrible!” the woman said, gesturing Martino forward. “You poor dear! Yes, of course. Don’t worry about it. We’ll make you and your friends some espresso. It would be a shame not to!”

“You really don’t have to make it,” Martino tried to object, but she shook her head, practically forcing himself into one of the chairs. “We can—”

“No, no!” she said, patting his shoulder and nodding at her friend. “Go get Antonia and Donna out of bed. They shouldn’t be sleeping this late anyway.” She smiled at Martino. “I’m Cara, by the way, and that’s Alma. Our friends are lazy bones, but don’t worry! We’ll get you and your friends all taken care of. Here, have some biscuits. Wouldn’t want you going hungry.”

Martino took the biscuit she shoved in his hand, biting back any more objections. If Cara was anything like his own grandmother, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. So he settled into the chair and didn’t protest as she set the blanket over his shoulders.

“Thanks. Um, I’m Martino,” he offered.

“Have you been up here long?” Cara asked as Alma disappeared into the camper, the door swinging shut behind her.

“We got here last night.” Between Luca’s directions and Elia’s terrible driving, it had seemed to take an eternity.

“I hear a bit of Rome in your voice,” she said curiously. “There’s another group here from Rome too.”

Martino just nodded. He wasn’t particularly interested in who else was at the camp site. At the moment, he was only interested in getting some caffeine in his body, and if that meant answering her questions, he would do it.

“Yeah. We’re just up here for a couple days,” he said, “before Uni starts.”

“Ah,” she said eagerly, lowering herself into the other chair slowly. “And what are you studying?” She handed him more biscuits and Martino didn’t refuse them. They were much better than the cheap ones Elia had brought.

“Medicine,” he answered, glancing back as the camper door opened and two other women emerged, blinking in the sunlight, pulling on robes over their clothes, hair still in curlers, but they smiled in greeting at Martino, seemingly not surprised at all to find him sitting in their chair, eating their biscuits.

“Handsome _and_ smart,” Cara said brightly. “I bet girls just love you, don’t they?”

“Uh, yeah,” Martino muttered slowly. It wasn’t worth it to correct her or try to explain that girls were the last thing on his mind.

He was glad when the camper door opened a minute later and Alma came out with a thermos.

“Espresso for everyone,” she said with a smile as she handed it to Martino.

“Thank you,” he said, sincere, almost reluctant to leave the comfort of their campsite as he pushed himself out of the chair. “I really appreciate it.”

“If you need anything else, my dear,” Cara said as he stepped away. “Don’t hesitate to ask!”

Martino waved awkwardly as he left, stepping between the trees as he headed back to the guys.

They were all sitting around the table when Martino arrived, and Luca looked up excitedly. “Espresso?”

“Courtesy of Cara and the girls,” Martino said as he set the thermos on the table.

“Marti’s new girlfriends,” Elia teased, grabbing the thermos and pouring out the cups. 

“No thanks to you,” Martino replied as he sat down, and Elia rolled his eyes. 

“Let’s get some caffeine in you before you bite all our heads off,” Gio said, shaking Martino by the shoulder.

Maybe he had a point, Martino had to admit as he took the cup Elia shoved his direction. He should probably try a little harder not to hate everything about camping. At least he was outside, and that was something.

*

The sun had risen fully by the time Gio suggested going hiking, to which Martino had merely stared.

“Hiking?” he’d asked, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice as Gio rolled his eyes and pulled on his shoes.

“Walking, typically in an upward direction. Enjoying nature—trees, birds, those little squirrels that steal your food.”

Needless to say, Martino had stayed behind as the rest of the guys set off to get all sweaty and gross and enjoy _trees_.

For a while, he lounged around the campsite, cleaning up the bottles from last night, making sure the biscuits were locked away in the car, away from those squirrels. Laying across the picnic table, Martino sighed at the sky peeking through the tree tops. He checked his phone, but he barely got enough service here to receive text messages, so he shoved it away and pushed himself up.

Leaving the campsite behind, Martino wandered through the trees, past colorful tents, families playing board games, sitting around the fire pit, empty sites, camper trailers with fancy set-ups.

He moved away from the lake, towards the grassy area where he could see some people gathered together. It wasn’t until he was at the edge of the field that he recognized Cara and her friends.

“Martino!” Cara greeted him, gesturing him forward, pinching his cheeks as he reached her. “What are you doing wandering around on your own?”

“My friends went hiking,” he said as she let go of him.

“Well, then you can join us! Now we have even teams!” She gestured at the bocce ball court behind them and Martino frowned.

“But there’s five of us.” He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t trying to get out of playing bocce with a bunch of old ladies, but it was certainly better than hiking, and better than being bored on his own.

“Oh, you haven’t met Niccolò,” she said eagerly, nodding behind Martino. “He’s a lost boy too.”

Turning, Martino wasn’t sure what he’d expected but it wasn’t possibly the hottest guy he’d ever seen walking toward them, sunlight gleaming on his arms, a tank top tight across his chest, dark curls tumbling over his forehead, an easy smile on his face as waved at the women.

He could see why Cara and her friends had adopted Niccolò as he grinned at them all, charming and adorable and Martino had to shake himself, get a grip. He hadn’t even talked to the guy. He couldn’t let his mind run away with fantasies already.

“Niccolò,” Cara said, pulling him over, a hand around his bicep. His very nice bicep, Martino found himself thinking, forcing his gaze up to Niccolò’s face. Which was a mistake as he met Niccolò’s warm gaze, the curl to his lips as he took in Martino as well. “This is Martino. He’s going to join us.”

“Hi,” Nico greeted him easily as Cara turned to organize her friends and gather the balls together. He lowered his voice as he stepped closer to Martino, and Martino felt the hairs on his arm rising. “Did Cara rope you into this? She’s very insistent.”

“Yeah,” Martino replied, eyes skating up Nico’s face, his handsome features. “My friends went hiking and I’d much rather not get all sweaty and gross for no reason.”

Niccolò smiled. “Yeah, there are plenty of better reasons to get sweaty.”

Martino wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by that, but he didn’t ask. It was just a fluke that someone as hot as Nico was talking to him at all, let alone smiling at him like that. Back home, Niccolò probably wouldn’t have even known he existed.

“So, do you know Cara?” he asked, and Nico shook his head.

“We met the other day. I guess I must have looked hungry because they took me in and force-fed me biscotti.”

Martino smiled slightly. “She did the same thing to me this morning.” For a moment, Martino watched Niccolò, the way he laughed, his whole face lighting up. Maybe camping wasn’t all bad.

“Martino,” Cara said as she returned to him. “You’re with me and Alma. Niccolò, Antonia and Donna think you’ll be a great asset to their team.”

“You’re going down, Marti,” Nico said, playful, and Martino felt his heart thud once in his chest.

“We’ll see about that,” he managed to say, and Nico laughed, biting his lip as he stepped away, and Martino smiled to himself this time. Something was going down.

*

“You’re cheating!” Martino said, hands on his hips, and Niccolò made an innocent face as he shook his head.

“I am not,” he said as Cara lined up to roll her ball. “You can knock another player’s ball out of the way. It’s in the rule book.”

“The rule book,” Martino scoffed as Nico grinned at him, as if he knew he was right. Martino wanted to be annoyed, but he just couldn’t seem to be whenever Nico did that. “Where is this rule book?”

“Probably online,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t exactly get service here.”

“So I’m just supposed to trust you?” Frowning, Martino crossed his arms, arching a skeptical eyebrow at Nico and the way he shrugged.

“Don’t you think I’m trustworthy?”

“I just met you,” he said instead, and Nico laughed. God, he was pretty when he laughed, Martino caught himself thinking.

“Then I guess you’ll have to get to know me better,” Nico said, and Martino paused.

Martino had liked enough straight guys in his life to question when they said something like that. Niccolò was far too pretty to be into him, though. He probably had a gorgeous girlfriend back wherever he came from.

“I’m sure you two will have plenty of time to get to know each other back in Rome,” Antonia said from where she was watching Donna bowl. Her long, grey-streaked hair, fell over her shoulders as she glanced back at them and smiled.

“You live in Rome?” Martino asked, his heart jumping into his throat for an unexplained reason.

Nico nodded. “Lived there my whole life. I’m in Uni at Sapienza.”

“He studies music,” Antonia added, as though Nico needed help.

Nico bit his lip as he smiled down at his shoes. “I do.”

“Martino is studying medicine,” Cara said, like a proud grandmother, and Martino met Nico’s amused gaze, biting back his embarrassed smile.

“Well, I start in the fall. At Sapienza too.”

Niccolò nodded slowly. “So maybe I’ll see you around.”

Glancing up, Martino didn’t reply, wondering at Nico’s smile, the way his gaze lingered on him. It couldn’t be. Nico couldn’t be. It just wasn’t probable.

“Niccolò, it’s your turn,” Antonia said, gesturing Nico away from Martino, and Nico shot him a knowing look.

“I promise no cheating on this one,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender, and Martino merely shook his head, smiling, hands falling back to his hips. He didn’t trust Niccolò at all.

*

Little fish nibbled curiously at his toes as Martino sat on the edge of the lake, half in the shade of the trees, watching Elia hoist Luca onto his shoulders from behind his sunglasses. Or at least, that’s what he was supposed to be watching.

In reality, he couldn’t help his gaze from sliding about two hundred feet down the shoreline to where Niccolò was lying on a smooth patch of grass while his friends splashed each other in the water. From his vantage point, Martino was fairly sure Nico couldn’t see him, but he could definitely see Nico, the way he was stretched out, his tank top long gone, shirtless as he soaked in the sun.

“You seem in a better mood.”

Martino jerked his gaze away from Nico as Gio sat down beside him, sliding his feet into the cool water.

“I wasn’t in a bad mood,” he said, kicking away the fish, water cold between his toes, shallow enough here to see the multi-colored rocks lining the bottom of the lake.

He knew he couldn’t fool Gio as Gio shot him a look.

“I know camping isn’t exactly your thing,” Gio said, “but it can be fun if you let it. Just hanging out, drinking beer, talking shit.”

“How is that different than what we do at home?”

“We’re outside,” Gio pointed out, gesturing around them at the grasses waving in the gentle wind, a bird twittering nearby. “We’re not staring at our phones constantly. It’s relaxing here, don’t you think?”

Relaxing wouldn’t have been Martino’s first choice of words, but Gio was trying, and he should be trying too.

“It’s not terrible,” he admitted, and Gio bumped into his shoulder with his own.

“I guess that’s good enough for now,” he said, laughing. “You should have come hiking, though. You missed Luchino walking face first into a spider web. I swear his screams could be heard for miles.”

Martino smiled, leaning forward on his knees, unable to stop himself from glancing around Gio again. Nico had shifted, sitting up, saying something to one of his friends. From this distance, Martino couldn’t make out much, but they all seemed to be tall, at least taller than Nico, with dark hair and slim bodies.

Niccolò lay back down as Martino watched, hands behind his head, knees propped up. How could one person be so pretty?

“Oh, I see,” Gio said after a long minute and Martino jerked his head back. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring, but it was long enough that Gio had turned to look too.

“What?” he asked quickly, and Gio smirked.

“You’ve discovered that sometimes hot people go camping too.”

“I don’t think he’s hot,” Martino muttered, and Gio’s smile widened.

“Who don’t you think is hot? That guy over there with the ripped abs and shining black hair? Like some kind of God?”

“Shut up,” Martino said, feeling his cheeks go red. He barely knew Nico.

Gio merely sat back on his hands, letting the sun filter through the trees and fall across his face. “If some good-looking guy is what it takes for you to give camping a chance, I’m all for it.”

Martino wanted to argue, though he wasn’t sure about what, so he just frowned and tore his gaze from Gio. As he watched, Luca toppled from Elia’s shoulders and landed with a splash in the water.

“I’m a little disappointed I’m not hot enough to convince you, though,” Gio said after a pause, and Martino scoffed at Gio’s grin.

“Fuck off.”

Reaching over, Gio ruffled Martino’s hair, and Martino shoved him away, rolling his eyes instead.

*

Martino should have known it was a bad idea the moment Luca said that he saw it on a survival show.

He couldn’t help frowning as he watched Luca try to set up some kind of make-shift roasting station from sticks and shoelaces.

“Here,” Gio said, shoving a beer into Martino’s hands, as though he knew exactly what he was thinking. Martino shot him a look but didn’t say anything as he sat at the picnic table, stealing the cookies from Elia and taking a handful. This was probably about all they’d get to eat tonight by the looks of things.

“Then you put the chicken on the stick,” Luca said, holding up the sharpened stick and looking eager.

“It’s probably not supposed to be still frozen, Luchi,” Elia said as Luca tried to impale the chicken over the stick.

“It’s not frozen,” Luca argued, poking at the pink skin. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’ll be fine!”

Martino turned to Elia as Luca shoved the chicken down and Gio went to tend the fire. 

“Why aren’t you doing the cooking, Mr. I’m Going To A Fancy Cooking School Next Year?”

Elia shrugged, reaching over and taking the cookies back from Martino. It was still light out, too light to turn on the lantern—the one thing they’d actually remembered to bring—though the sun was sinking beyond the trees, turning the sky dusty blue and orange.

“Gotta give someone else a shot.”

Martino wasn’t sure that was a good idea when that other person was Luchino, who had set the stick over the fire and was turning it slowly. It was going to take forever.

“Just wrap it in foil and throw it in the coals,” Martino said, but Luca shook his head.

“It’s gonna be so much better this way!”

“Drink your beer,” Gio said over the fire, and Martino shook his head as he took a sip. It was going to be a long night.

For a while, he sat on the bench, snacking on cookies, watching the sun set through the trees. He wondered if Nico was doing the same. He shouldn’t have been thinking about Nico, not with his friends right there, arguing about how to season a chicken rolling around on a makeshift spit.

Martino opened his mouth to make a suggestion, but words didn’t come out. Instead, a blast of music rolled through the trees, like a crashing wave as it was turned down just a tiny bit.

“God, not again,” he groaned, turning to peer through the campground. He couldn’t see where it was coming from exactly, just a couple tents in the fading light, shadows around a fire.

“ _Questo e l’ombelico del mondo!_ ” someone sang, loudly and off-key, and Martino slapped a hand to his face.

“ _L’ombelico del mondo!_ ” came the answering shout, and Martino cringed. Perfect.

“Come on, Marti,” Elia said with a grin. “You know the words. Sing along!”

Martino glared. “They’re gonna go all night again. It doesn’t bother anyone else?”

“A few more beers and you won’t care either,” Elia said, shoving another beer at Martino. “Just chill, man.”

Gio joined them at the table, a calm hand on Martino’s shoulder. “If it bothers you that much, just go ask them to keep it down.”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “They should know better than to disturb everyone in the campground.”

“Well, they obviously don’t,” Gio said, squeezing his shoulder. “So why don’t you go ask?”

Because if he went to ask, Martino would be the buzzkill of the campground, the stick in the mud who hadn’t wanted to go camping in the first place and was now ruining everyone else’s good time.

Shaking his head, he drained what was left of his beer and reached for the second. “When’s that chicken gonna be ready, Luchi?”

“A couple hours?” Luca replied, and Martino groaned as he set his head down on the table, ignoring the way Gio patted his back reassuringly. He bet Nico had food, edible food. And friends who didn’t think he was being an idiot about the whole thing. But Niccolò wasn’t here, and Martino had no idea where he might be, so he sighed and tried not to listen to the voices now singing a rousing chorus of _Ma il cielo è sempre più blu._

*

Martino lifted his head as yet another song started and he groped for his beer. He’d lost count of how many that was, and he was annoyed when Gio slid it out of his reach.

“I think you’re good for now.”

“Well, I’m hungry,” Martino complained, blinking at the lantern glaring in his eyes. Above them, everything was dark, stars coming to life in the deep blue blanket that was the sky.

“I don’t think this chicken is ever going to cook through,” Elia said from where he poked the chicken with a stick. Martino was pretty sure Luca had grown tired of rotating it an hour ago, and now one side was blackened from the flames.

“Beer isn’t food,” Gio pointed out, and Martino didn’t care. It was calories, wasn’t it? It was better than raw chicken at any rate.

“And karaoke isn’t entertainment, but that hasn’t stopped those guys,” Martino mumbled. He’d had far too many beers on any empty stomach, and he knew if he tried to get up, the whole world would start spinning.

“Maybe we have some snacks,” Gio said, rising from the table and heading for the car.

Snacks weren’t going to cut it, Martino thought as he slumped on the bench. He’d hoped that enough beer would at least allow him to sleep through the incessant karaoke-ing, but as the hours grew later, he was starting to think maybe Gio had been right about going over there.

“Hello, boys.”

A new voice interrupted Martino’s thoughts, and he looked up eagerly at Cara’s friendly tone, the jiggle of a flashlight clicking off as she stepped into the circle of lantern light.

“Cara,” he said as Elia and Luca exchanged a questioning glance.

“We made far too much risotto and wondered if you could take it off our hands? Growing boys like you need a filling dinner.”

Martino could have died just at the smell emanating from the pot as she set it on the table. 

Elia and Luca still looked confused, but Martino nodded eagerly. 

“Yes, yes, thank you!”

She beamed, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing. Wouldn’t want you going hungry.”

Martino didn’t even watch her leave, grabbing the top of the pot and inhaling deeply. God, he was starving.

“Where did that come from?” Gio asked as he returned with a bag of taralli, dropping it on the table.

“Marti’s new girlfriend brought it over,” Elia said, and Martino glared.

“If you don’t want any, there’s always Luchi’s chicken.” He glanced at the charred and pink chicken obviously and back at Elia, who seemed to be rethinking his answer.

“Fuck the chicken,” Luca said, crowding in next to Martino, breathing in deeply. “Let’s just get some forks.”

The first bite was heaven as Gio handed around the forks and they dug in without bothering with bowls or plates. As they ate, Martino almost didn’t care about the rendition of _50 Special_ the guys were now singing as loudly as they possibly could, it seemed.

“I think you were right, Gio,” he said as he ate, feeling better with every bite. “I should go talk to those guys.”

“No, no, no,” Gio said quickly, grabbing his arm and dragging him back as Martino tried to get up, the floor pitching underneath him. He was definitely still drunk even if he felt better now. “You can barely be nice when you’re sober. There’s no way I’m letting you go over there now. You’d probably piss them all off.”

“But they’re never gonna stop,” Martino complained, digging his fork into the pot.

“And you’ll sleep right through it tonight,” Gio said, keeping Martino at the table with a hand heavy on his shoulder. “And tomorrow, you can go stalk that hottie from the lake.”

“What hottie?” Elia demanded, and Martino sighed.

“No one,” he said. He didn’t need Elia peering over his shoulder constantly to evaluate if Nico really was good-looking or not.

“We can go into town and check out the girls,” Gio said instead and Elia nodded eagerly.

“Good plan.”

“And pick up some bug spray,” Gio said, nudging Martino in the side as Martino rolled his eyes and took another big bite of risotto.

“Thanks.”

* 

Martino woke up with way too much of a hangover considering there wasn’t any espresso and the boys hadn’t seemed interested in asking for any from the neighbors. Admittedly, Martino might have snapped a bit when Gio had offered him biscuits this morning, burrowing into his sweatshirt in the morning dew.

A part of Martino had been glad when Gio, Elia, and Luca had finally piled in the car and headed into the nearest town (”for beer!” Elia had said eagerly, and Gio had nudged Martino in the side and said, “We’ll get bug spray and actual food too.”). He was sure they would spend most of the time trying to talk up local girls instead.

Alone at the campsite, Martino enjoyed the silence for only a few minutes before boredom set in. He still didn’t get the appeal of camping. His phone barely got any service, so it wasn’t like he could entertain himself.

Before he knew it, he found his feet carrying him over to Cara’s camper, spotting her sitting at the picnic table, along with Antonia… and Niccolò.

Hesitating, Martino paused as he reached the edge of their campsite. He wondered why, when Nico clearly had his own friends, he was over here with Cara and Antonia, shuffling a deck of cards on the table.

“Martino!” Cara spotted him before he could make a decision of whether or not he wanted Nico to know how pathetic he was that he’d been looking to spend time with a bunch of old ladies rather than going into town with his friends. “Are you all alone again? Dear, come over here and join us.”

He didn’t really have a choice, he supposed, especially when Nico smiled at him, bright and easy, sliding onto the bench next to him.

“We were just about to play Scopa,” Cara said as Nico shuffled the cards again. “You can be on Niccolò’s team.”

Martino hesitated. “I don’t know how to play.”

Nico’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “That’s impossible! Everyone knows how to play. Are you sure you’re Italian?”

“Yes,” Martino replied, flushing slightly at Nico’s grin, the way he bumped into his shoulder playfully.

“I’ll teach you then,” Nico said simply, dealing out the cards.

“You can’t play Scopa without snacks!” Cara said, pushing herself up from the table. “Antonia, come help me.”

Martino watched them go before glancing at Niccolò. “So do you just like hanging out with old ladies?”

Nico smiled at the table, picking up his hand. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Didn’t you come here with friends?” Martino asked instead of answering, and Nico shrugged.

“Yeah. They’re hanging out at the campsite.”

Frowning, Martino took the cards Nico handed him. “So your friends are chilling and you decided to spend your time playing cards with a bunch of old ladies?”

“Hey, they give me free food and call me handsome,” Nico said, laughing at Martino. “What more could a guy want?”

Martino didn’t know exactly. Nico glanced sideways at him.

“Where are your friends?”

“They went into town to get some stuff,” he said vaguely, shrugging. He didn’t want to think about why he hadn’t gone with them. He should have gone with them. He should have wanted to go, not stay here by himself. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

Luckily, Nico didn’t ask and he didn’t have to answer as Cara and Antonia returned with a platter of delicious-smelling pastries.

“Alright,” Cara said as she took her seat. “Now, don’t think just because we’re older, we won’t take you down, boys.”

Martino exchanged a glance with Nico, grinning as Nico leaned over and began to explain the game.

*

“Age before beauty, dearest,” Cara said as she swept the cards from the table, and Niccolò pouted. Martino looked away from Nico’s face, something swirling excitedly in his stomach, biting back his smile as Nico waved a finger at Cara.

“You have an unfair advantage,” he said, and Cara laughed as Martino examined his cards.

“Yes, it’s called wisdom. You’ll have it some day too.”

Nico laughed, nudging Martino under the table with his foot, and Martino looked up. “Did you hear that, Marti? She thinks we’re too young.”

Cara tisked gently, reaching over to pinch Nico’s cheek. “It’s a compliment, my dear. You should enjoy your youth, and your losses,” she said as Antonia swept the remaining cards away.

“Alright, I’m done,” Nico said, tossing down his cards. “I can’t suffer this humiliation any more. What about you, Marti?”

Martino glanced up quickly at his name, Nico’s smile, the quirk to his eyebrows.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anyway, so.” He set down his cards as Niccolò stretched and climbed up from the bench.

“You ladies are just too good for us,” Nico said, nodding his head not-so-subtly at Martino, and Martino got the hint a second later, pushing himself up from the table.

“Yeah. I should go see if my friends are back,” he said, though he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be back for a while.

“Come by later,” Cara said as they left the site. “Alma’s making puttanesca!”

“Sounds like we’ve got dinner covered,” Nico said as they wandered through the trees, and Martino smiled. They were heading for his campsite, though he wasn’t sure if that was where they were going when Nico watched him for a moment, and he tried to think of something to say.

“You want to take a walk?” Niccolò asked as they reached Martino’s tent, the car still gone from the site.

“Okay,” he agreed, smiling to himself when Nico nodded toward the path around the lake, and he followed without another word.

*

Shifting on the rock, Martino could feel Nico next to him, just an inch away as they gazed out at the lake, sunlight shimmering off the surface, the space Nico had chosen shaded by leafy trees, a zig-zag path away from the main trail to get there.

“You smoke?” Nico asked, producing a joint, and Martino laughed.

“Sometimes.”

“Good,” Nico said, smiling at him as he fished in his pocket for a lighter. 

Martino took the joint when Nico passed it, fingers brushing together for a millisecond, not long enough to justify the tingling feeling creeping up his arm.

“What did your friends go into town to do?” Nico asked as Martino breathed out the smoke and passed the joint back. It wasn’t particularly strong, but just the familiarity was enough to relax Martino as they sat on the boulder, water lapping gently at the bank below them.

“I don’t know.” Martino shrugged. “Hit on girls.”

Nico laughed, licking his lips. “And you didn’t want to do that?”

Looking away, Martino paused. He didn’t really know Nico that well, and coming out always seemed like a hassle with new people.

“It’s not really my thing,” he muttered instead, stealing the joint from Nico as he raised it to his lips. Nico merely smiled and let him.

“It’s not really mine either,” he said, and Martino glanced at him, wondering if maybe Nico meant what he thought. “I’d rather just meet one person, the right person.”

Martino looked away, taking another drag and letting the smoke settle in his lungs. “So no girlfriend back in Rome?”

Nico shook his head, taking the joint Martino offered. “I’ve been flying solo for a while.”

So Nico was single, Martino caught himself thinking. But he was probably straight. He’d come out here with Martino just to get high, to hang out like normal people did. Rolling his eyes at himself, Martino shook the thought from his head.

As they sat there, a bug landed on Martino’s arm and he slapped it away. “God, I hate bugs,” he said, scowling as he wiped the guts off him.

To his surprise, Nico actually laughed, and he turned, ready to glare at him for laughing at his pain, but he just couldn’t when Nico smiled at him, so gentle it made his heart ache.

“I get the feeling you’re not really a camper,” he said, plucking at the collar of Martino’s button-down tee shirt, and Martino sighed.

“Not really,” he agreed after a minute. “But my friends wanted to go, and it’s probably the last time…” He didn’t finish, making a face at the water, knowing Nico was watching him.

“Last time what?” Nico asked and Martino jerked his shoulders.

“After this, every thing’s going to be different. Luchino and Elia will be at different schools and, I don’t know, it’s all going to change.”

“Some of it’s gonna be a good change,” Nico pointed out, holding out the joint to Martino. “New friends. New school. New classes.”

Martino frowned, taking the joint, pausing as he gazed at the smoldering tip. “Maybe. But I don’t want things to change.” Pausing, he shook his head, feeling stupid as Nico watched him. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You don’t care.”

“Hey,” Nico said, reaching for Martino’s arm, fingers resting against his skin, goosebumps creeping up the back of his neck. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers. And I do care.”

“Why?” Martino asked, glancing up, watching Nico tilt his head to the side, a soft smile at his lips. 

“Because it’s important to me that you’re having a good time out here, and letting yourself worry about all the things that might or might not happen in the future isn’t going to help.”

Martino knew he was right even as he sighed. “I know. I’ve been kind of a dick this whole trip, though.”

“There’s still time to have fun,” Nico said easily, nudging his shoulder, his hand sliding from Martino’s arm.

“And what would you suggest?”

Nico paused for a moment, thinking, and Martino took the time to let his gaze slide down the sharp line of his jaw, the smooth skin on his throat, the gentle rise of his shoulders under his tank top, collarbone disappearing underneath the collar. Distracted, he pulled himself back as Nico’s gaze slid to him.

“There’s always skinny-dipping,” he said slowly, and Martino laughed, shaking his head as Nico thought again, twisting more towards Martino. “Hide and seek in the dark? Or maybe telling scary stories around a campfire?”

“No,” Martino said easily, and Nico licked his lips, seemingly closer than before, head tilted slightly as Martino felt his heartbeat speed up.

“A hard one to please,” Nico murmured, playful, and Martino didn’t reply, swallowing as they seemed to inch closer, the air going still between them, close enough to feel Nico’s breath, eyes on Nico’s lips as he tilted his chin in, just barely and—

“Nico?”

A voice through the trees had Martino jerking back, nearly falling off the rock as Nico turned to the person tramping through the grass.

“There you are,” the guy said as Martino steadied himself, heart beating furiously. They’d almost kissed. He was sure of it.

Although maybe he wasn’t as Nico flashed a grin at the guy. It was one of his friends—Martino recognized him from the hair.

“What is it?”

“The guys want to go rent some kayaks,” the guy said, eyes sliding to Martino curiously. “You in?”

Nico glanced back at Martino, who hurried to slide off the rock, dusting off his shorts. 

“I should see if my friends are back,” he said quickly, and Nico seemed to paused before turning to his friend.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll be right there.” As the guy turned and left, Nico glanced at him. “You could come with us.”

“No,” Martino said, shaking his head. “I should probably go back. They might think I ran off.”

Nico nodded after a minute, sliding off the rock and flicking what was left of the joint into the lake where it fizzled and died.

“I guess I’ll see you later,” Nico said easily, a smile on his lips as Martino felt himself nod.

“Yeah,” he agreed, remaining at the water’s edge as Nico turned and headed for the path. Fuck.

*

He was almost sure Nico had been about to kiss him, but he couldn’t be sure.

Sitting on the log, ass going numb, Martino frowned at the flames, only looking up as the usual music rolled through the campground and he sighed. When were those guys going to leave and let them have some peace and quiet?

“So what are your girlfriends bringing for dinner tonight?” Elia asked, poking Martino in the side, and he frowned.

“Be nice or you won’t get any.”

“I’ll just charm them,” Elia said easily. “If you can do it, it can’t be that hard.”

Shifting away from him on the log, Martino didn’t respond. He wasn’t thinking about dinner tonight, or what terrible songs the karaoke boys had selected for this evening. He was thinking about the way Nico had leaned in, gaze dropping to his lips, the tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth, the invisible pull on his heart, as though drawing Martino closer.

“We should send Luchino in,” Gio said with a laugh, poking at the fire with a stick and jerking back as it spit embers at him. “They wouldn’t be able to resist someone so small.”

“I’ll do it,” Luca volunteered eagerly. “If whatever they make is as good as that risotto yesterday, I’ll let them adopt me.”

“Nah, they’ve already got Marti,” Elia said, teasingly, reaching to pinch Martino’s cheek, and Martino swatted him away.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” he muttered, distracted as he gazed through the campground. Nico was out there somewhere with his friends, listening to the same terrible karaoke as they were. He wondered if Nico was thinking about him.

Probably not, he told himself simply, turning back to the fire. Nico was probably one of those guys who didn’t worry about the future, impulsive and fun and everything Martino wasn’t.

For a long while, Martino sat back and listened to Gio and Elia and Luca arguing who would survive the longest in the wild. Personally, Marti thought Gio would be the only one to make it more than a day.

“But I know how to cook,” Elia said, and Gio shook his head.

“Yeah, poisonous mushrooms that you wouldn’t be able to identify.”

After school started, Martino found himself thinking, it wouldn’t be like this. He wouldn’t get to watch Luchino see how many cookies he could shove in his mouth, listen to Elia insisting that he could make something edible out of pine needles and bark, see Gio roll his eyes fondly in response to both of them.

“What’s wrong with you?” Elia asked, elbow knocking Martino out of his head, blinking at the fire, looking up to find Gio watching him in that annoyingly concerned way he sometimes did.

“Nothing,” he said, shoving Elia back. “There’s no way you would survive one day in the woods alone.”

“Fuck you,” Elia scoffed, but it distracted him enough that Martino could go back to staring at the fire, though he still felt Gio’s gaze on him as he leaned on his knees and watched the wood crackle and burn.

*

Lying awake, too hot in his sleeping bag, Martino gazed at the tent ceiling, the bugs gathering on the top, bumping against the vinyl as they tried to get in. The karaoke was still playing from across the campground, and Martino sighed to himself as he set his hands on his stomach.

Beside him, he could hear Gio shifting on top of his sleeping bag, as though he couldn’t quite get comfortable.

“Gio,” he said, quiet, almost too quietly, half-hoping Gio hadn’t heard him.

“Hmm?” Gio hummed after a second, going still with a sigh.

For a moment, Martino blinked at the ceiling instead of answering. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk,” he said finally, glancing over, but he couldn’t see Gio through the pitch darkness, “about this whole trip.”

“It’s okay,” Gio said, and Martino heard him shift on his sleeping bag. “I know camping’s not really your thing.”

“It’s not just that,” Martino admitted, sighing at the tent ceiling, listening to the distant sounds of music and off-key voices singing along. “I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Next year. Everything changing. What’s gonna happen with us. The guys.”

For a moment, Gio didn’t reply, and Martino took a deep breath as he lay there, blinking in the darkness. He hated admitting that he thought about it, that he worried about what was going to happen once they weren’t all together anymore, that this was their last hurrah before everything changed.

“Nothings gonna happen with the guys,” Gio said at long last. “We’ll still see each other. We’ll still hang out. We’ll still be friends.”

“You say that, but…” Martino paused. “There are going to be new people, new friends. You can’t guarantee things will stay the same.”

“I didn’t say they’d be the same,” Gio murmured from beside him. “You know, you’re going to meet new people too and make new friends. But just because you meet people doesn’t mean you automatically forget about your other friends.”

Martino didn’t reply to that, though he knew it was true.

“Stop thinking so much,” Gio said after a minute of quiet, and Martino felt his hand groping for him, patting his chest reassuringly. “We’ve been friends since we were five years old, Marti. I’ve seen every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done. You came out to me first, and I don’t know if I ever told you how much that meant to me, but it did. I trust you more than anything, and going to Uni is not going to change that. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Martino was glad the tent was pitch black so Gio couldn’t see the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and he wiped them away as they lay side by side. 

“Okay,” he said after a long minute, not knowing what else to say, and Gio took his hand back.

“Okay,” he echoed, as though that decided something.

He felt better, lying there, even as the sounds of a poor rendition of _Ragazzo Fortunato_ wafted through the darkness. He may not have known what was coming, but at least he knew who he’d be doing it with.

*

“Finally decided you liked camping?” Elia asked as he waded up to Martino on the shore, and Martino glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun and flinching at the cold water Elia flicked onto him.

“It’s alright,” he admitted. There’d been espresso this morning, courtesy of Cara and her friends, who’d fawned over Martino when he’d gone to ask, had insisted he take the moka entirely since they were packing up and leaving that morning, and plied him with pastries to take back to the boys. He’d even seen Nico through the trees, waved back as his heart skipped a little.

He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with Nico, if anything was going on aside from some momentary infatuation with an absolutely gorgeous guy he happened to meet at a campground a few hundred miles from home. 

“Maybe you’d like it more if there was some eye candy,” Elia went on, and Martino frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

Elia arched an eyebrow as he stared behind Martino on the grassy field. “You know I’m not into guys, but there’s a hot-looking piece coming this way.”

Pushing himself up sharply, Martino twisted to see Nico heading his way, a smile already on his face, and his heart rate picked up as he struggled to his feet, brushing grass off his shorts, wishing he was wearing a tee shirt as Nico approached him.

“Hey,” Nico greeted him easily, and Martino ignored the look Elia shot at him.

“Hi,” he said in return, hoping he didn’t sound too nervous with Elia peering over his shoulder.

Nico didn’t seem nervous, smiling at Martino’s blue swimming shorts, patterned with little white pineapples. “Tonight’s our last night here,” he said, watching Marti. “We were gonna barbecue and I was thinking you could come hang out with us, and your friends too, of course. If you’re not doing anything else.”

“Uh,” Martino said, surprised at the offer, about to say yes as Elia butted in, an arm heavy over Martino’s shoulder.

“Barbecue, we’re in!” he said eagerly, and Nico’s smile widened as he watched Martino instead, how Martino shoved Elia off him.

“Cool. I’ll come find you later.”

Martino just watched Nico walk away for a minute, hope building in his chest. A whole evening with Nico. Nico’s last night. It was technically their last night too, but it felt different some how.

“I didn’t need help,” he said as he turned to Elia, who scoffed.

“I’ve seen you with guys, Marti,” he said easily. “You need all the help you can get.”

Rolling his eyes, Martino shoved Elia back towards the water. “How about I help you shut up?”

Elia just laughed as they crashed into the water, and Martino couldn’t help grinning. Maybe camping wasn’t so bad.

*

Nico’s friends were gathered around the fire pit, seemingly debating the best way to actually cook the food as Martino swallowed down his nerves and followed after Nico.

“You already know Luai,” Nico said as the group of guys glanced up at Martino and his friends arriving. He nodded at the tall guy that had interrupted them yesterday. “And that’s Ryan, Rami, Malik, and Driss. Guys, this is Martino and his friends.”

The guys just grinned at them as Martino stepped around a chair. “I’m Marti,” he said awkwardly. “And that’s Gio, Elia, and Luca.”

“What are you making?” Luca asked, heading straight for the fire. “It smells amazing.”

Elia trailed after him, looking satisfied as one of the guys handed him a beer. That was all it would take for him.

Gio stayed behind, watching Nico. Martino just hoped he wasn’t going to say anything weird.

“So where are you guys from?”

“Rome,” Nico answered easily. “We just came up before Uni starts up again. Now that we’re in different schools, we don’t get as much time together.”

Martino knew Gio was looking at him, and he tried not to think about how similar it was.

“Nico studies music,” he said instead, and Nico smiled.

“Mostly composition,” he said, watching Martino. “Music theory, piano, guitar. That kind of stuff.”

“Cool,” Gio agreed, nudging Martino gently in the side. “I’m gonna get a beer.”

Gio left them alone, and Martino bit his lip slowly as Nico watched him go. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now, if Nico had invited him just to be nice, if they were just going to spend the night eating barbecue and drinking beer.

“Your friends are nice,” Nico said after a minute, looking back at Martino, who felt his heart clench despite himself at the look. 

“Yeah,” he agreed stupidly, and Nico laughed.

“You want a beer? Or we have other stuff.”

“Beer’s fine,” Martino said, lingering back as Nico went to dig in the cooler. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous, especially when Nico returned and pressed the cold bottle into his hand, fingers lingering against his just a second too long.

“Come on,” Nico said, nodding at the picnic bench. “Let’s sit. Dinner won’t be ready for a while.”

Settling onto the bench, facing the flickering fire, Martino took a drink, hoping it might calm whatever butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach. He hadn’t been nervous with Nico before, even sitting by the lake, barely centimeters between them.

“You’re going back tomorrow?” Martino asked finally, and Nico nodded.

“Unfortunately. Can’t stay out here forever.”

“We’re leaving too,” Martino muttered, and Nico glanced at him.

“Did you at least enjoy your time in nature?” he asked, teasing, and Martino smiled, relaxing slightly as he rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted, “though I’ve got plenty of souvenirs to take home.” He stretched out his arms, revealing the many bug bites.

“Ouch,” Nico said, reaching for Martino, running his fingers over the reddened bumps, and Martino’s skin tingled in his wake. 

Swallowing, Martino watched how Nico’s fingers slid over his arm, soft and gentle, a swoop in his stomach.

“I’ll survive,” he said, disappointed when Nico finally took his hand away and reached for his beer instead.

“Yeah, you’re tough,” Nico said with a grin as he looked back at Martino, and Martino couldn’t help smiling in return.

*

Martino’s stomach ached, full on delicious barbecue and beer as he sat in the chair by the fire, feeling the heat on his knees even as the night chill crept in on the wind. Nico had pulled on a loose grey sweatshirt next to him, arm inches away on the chair rest. Martino shouldn’t have been staring at it, at him, but he couldn’t help it.

“You know what this party needs?” Rami said from his spot on the other side of the fire, a pile of beer bottles at his feet, and Malik groaned. “Music!”

Martino’s smile fell from his face as realization swept over him as Rami got up and pulled out a tiny karaoke machine.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, and Gio shot him a look from across the fire. “You’re those annoying karaoke boys!”

Nico’s eyebrows went up, confused. “What?”

“Marti,” Gio said, warningly, but Martino couldn’t believe it.

“You’ve sang karaoke every night until three in the morning!” he said as Nico friends watched him.

“Yeah?” Nico said, still looking confused as he wrinkled his nose, and no matter how cute it was, it wouldn’t stop Martino from being annoyed. “Sorry, was it loud?”

“Just a little,” Martino said, and Nico smiled anyway. It shouldn’t have been cute, how Nico’s eyes crinkled, how he was obviously laughing at Martino.

“I guess sound carries more outside,” he said with a shrug.

“Sound carries?” Martino repeated. “That’s your only excuse?”

Across the circle, Gio slapped a hand to his face. 

“Oh, come on,” Nico said, playful, gentle, irresistible. “You can’t tell me my rendition of _Vado al massimo_ wasn’t amazing?”

Martino wanted to glare, but he just couldn’t, not when Nico was grinning at him like that, like he knew anything Martino said would be a lie.

“It was loud,” he said finally, and Nico laughed, biting his lip, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. Why didn’t you just ask us to turn it down?”

Martino frowned. “I didn’t want to be that guy.”

Nico’s gaze softened as he watched Martino. “I would have turned it down for you.”

For a second, Martino didn’t know what to do, nerves fluttering in his stomach, the moment lingering in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, possibly ever.

“Okay, who’s gonna sing first?” Rami demanded, and Martino blinked away from Nico finally as Luca jumped up.

“Me!”

As Luca clambered up from his chair, Martino sunk deeper into his, ever aware of Nico’s gaze that never left him, the gentle smile at his lips as Luca began his song.

*

Martino’s knees were hot but the rest of him was cold as he shivered, frowning at how Elia and Rami were hanging off each other as they belted out a very off-key version of _Certe notti_.

“Cold?” Nico asked, leaning over and lowering his voice.

“A little,” Martino agreed. He hadn’t brought over anything to keep warm, and he was starting to regret it.

“You want to go get a sweater?” Nico asked, and Martino sighed.

“I guess I should before it gets really cold.”

“I’ll come with you. Make sure you don’t get lost.”

It was like fifty feet through the trees, but Martino didn’t say anything as Nico rose from his chair. The rest of the guys were too distracted singing along to notice them leaving.

Outside the light of the fire, Martino switched on the flashlight, keeping his gaze on the uneven ground as they walked and didn’t speak.

At the tent, Nico waited outside as Martino crawled inside and rooted around for a sweatshirt among the mess that was his and Gio’s things.

“Got it,” he said as he climbed out, straightening up, shaking out the sweatshirt as he turned to Nico.

He somehow wasn’t expecting what happened next—Nico stepping forward in the darkness, warm hands on Martino’s neck, soft lips pressed to his, a kiss that made Martino’s whole body melt, caught between surprised and not surprised at all.

The flashlight dangled loosely from his fingers as Nico pulled back, fingers sliding from his neck, and Martino could only see the outline of his face in the moonlight, the way Nico watched him.

Martino didn’t need to think this time, a smile breaking over his face, the flashlight falling to the ground, beam of light rolling in a circle before coming to a stop on Martino’s feet as he stepped forward and met Nico’s grin with his own as their foreheads pressed together and Martino closed the distance and kissed him.

*

Martino smiled to himself as he gazed out at the lake, the sun not quite risen, the sky still pale blue in the east. A bird cried somewhere along the shore line, and he didn’t move, hands tucked warmly into his pockets.

He didn’t know how long Nico had stayed last night, after they’d crawled in his tent, settled in on the lumpy sleeping bag, exchanging kisses and smiles, whispered words that Martino forgot the moment Nico kissed him again. He didn’t remember anything aside from the warmth that had spread over him every time Nico pressed into him, body firm and heavy, tongue sliding into his mouth, the way his heart had pounded in his chest, nervous and excited.

Nico had stayed until they heard the inevitable sounds of the guys returning, drunk singing coming closer, someone tripping over a chair and the cursing that followed. Nico had slipped out of the tent with a last kiss, a promise of tomorrow, and for the first time since they’d arrived at the campground, Martino had fallen asleep with a smile on his face.

The lake was still as Martino stood there, breathing in the clear air. He had never thought he’d be sad to leave.

“Who knew you were such an early riser.”

Martino turned at Nico’s voice behind him, a smile already blossoming on his face. Nico returned it as he stepped up beside him. 

“Hey,” Nico greeted him easily, and Martino actually wasn’t surprised when Nico took his hand, pulling it from his pocket. “Did you sleep okay?”

Smiling, Martino nodded. “The best since I’ve been here.”

“That’s funny,” Nico said, gazing out at the lake. “I didn’t sleep at all. Just kept thinking about this amazing guy I met here.”

Martino felt the flush on his cheeks as he watched Nico. They hadn’t talked about it, about what had happened, why it had happened, but he thought maybe they didn’t need to.

There were still pillow lines on Nico’s cheek as Martino reached for him, gliding his fingers over them.

“We’re both going home today,” he said after a while, and Nico nodded.

“Back to the city,” he agreed, twining his fingers with Martino’s.

“The same city,” Martino said slowly, and Nico smiled.

“If you want my number, you don’t have to ask,” he said, and Martino bit back his smile, the stupid nerves disappearing as Nico pulled out his phone.

“So I’ll see you in Rome?” he couldn’t help asking, even as Nico looked up at him, a crease to his eyebrows.

“You better,” he said, leaning in and drawing Martino to him for a soft kiss, arms sliding around him, pulling him closer.

He definitely would, Martino decided as they stood by the lake, wrapped in each other as the sun crept over the trees and swept over the lake.

Later, in the car, halfway back to Rome, a stupid smile on his face, when Gio turned and asked, “So it wasn’t that bad, was it, Marti?” Marti just shook his head and turned to gaze out the window at the rushing landscape. Not bad at all.

*

FIN.


End file.
